


Out Of The Sky, Into The Flow

by Dorasolo



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, FFH SPOILERS, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, POV Scott Lang, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), but canon-ish, probably not canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-04-24 03:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19164550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorasolo/pseuds/Dorasolo
Summary: Scott is about to promise Cassie the world, but Hope is still shaking her head and Luis is mouthing no, and with this A+ parenting team in his pocket, he chews his words thoughtfully instead.Or, the Ant-Fam is having some post-Snap growing pains.





	1. Chapter 1

Eight months have gone by after the return of the Snapped, and Scott Lang’s world has started to slowly settle. He knows he’s incredibly lucky because his personal life is pretty damn good, considering how it was before the Snap. He’s not on house arrest, or probation, or parole, and even though he’s still a felon in the state of California, this is the closest thing to freedom he’s had in a long time. After they returned from saving the entire world, thank you very much, his girlfriend and partner in all things superheroic Hope van Dyne unofficially moved in with him. She came over one night to watch fireworks, and never left. They never saw any reason for her to rent her own apartment after they returned to San Francisco, which makes him happy because he loves her and seeing her every day is not-so-secretly one of the best things he’s ever had in his entire life. 

He officially has custody of his sixteen year old daughter Cassie every weekend, another bright spot, because before the Snap he had official visitation rights but this is shared custody so it’s big, and exciting. Scott still gets along really well with his ex wife Maggie and her husband Paxton. In fact, they get along to an alarming degree even though to her, he’s been gone for five years and she’s been a single parent. He’s still pretty sure it’s because Maggie has somehow convinced herself that Scott has only ever been her best friend and not her ex husband. But hey, whatever works. 

His work life is settling nicely too: he still co-runs X-Con out of the kitchen of his house with Luis, Kurt and Dave. Luis and Kurt kept the business afloat while Scott and Dave were gone, so it’s been a smooth transition now that all four of them are back. In fact, Luis lives on the second floor of his house because it would be unfair to kick him out after he’s been there technically longer than Scott has, which has to be some kind of squatter’s rights situation. Either way, Luis isn’t in the way, and Scott doesn’t mind him there. 

Scott is pretty busy with X-Con. For example, today is Wednesday, and on Wednesdays Scott tests the security systems X-Con has already installed for weaknesses. He picks a location at random, and then spends most of the week prepping for the Wednesday tests, which involve Scott and however many crew members he needs to break into the building either literally or hacking in on a computer. Depending on how easy it is for him to do, they upsell whatever products would be necessary to keep him from doing it again. 

He’s also an Avenger now, this time for real, and not something he has to say to impress Hank and Hope. Sam Wilson’s Avengers Initiative has focused on fixing what hasn’t been easy in the cities after the Snap, like crumbling infrastructure and intense housing demand. The Initiative is handling this because they’re faster than waiting for the bureaucratic garbage to clear city government.

As part of the Initiative, Scott and Hope have foiled three armed robberies around the Bay area, and one enormous landslide. As a result of the landslide, they’ve been working on demolition just outside of San Francisco in the mountains in addition to X-Con. He and Hope use their suits to go small and find weaknesses in the rubble that’s blocking the passes. After they find weak spots, Scott goes big and blasts through the blockages and debris. 

Hope has been experimenting with Giant Wasp in the lab, but even though she can physically grow to about 30 feet before the intense vertigo starts, she doesn’t like going big at all and leaves that part to Scott. She’s more comfortable with a shovel and leading the human volunteer efforts to clear out the destruction. Scott’s a little bummed because staying small means she always ignores his intense efforts to call her Queen Bee. 

Sometimes Hope joins in on the Wednesday heists, but she usually heads to the new and official full size Pym Tech lab to work with her parents on quantum tech. 

This particular Wednesday, neither Scott nor Hope have moved a muscle from their bed in the attic. They’ve spent the better part of two days helping to fix the mountain highways that have fallen into disrepair over the past five years and they’ve both really been looking forward to having a day off. Normally, on a day off, they would go for a run together, but when Hope hits the snooze button for the third time, Scott knows it is a no-go.

“I love you,” he murmurs gratefully after she turns the alarm off entirely.

Hope sighs out a small laugh, muffled because she’s a stomach sleeper and she’s still sprawled on her stomach. She reaches out and pats his arm, the closest part of his body to her. 

“I think my whole body is sprained and I need a note to get out of gym class,” Scott groans, flat on his back with a pillow over his head. “Will you write one for me?”

“Yes,” Hope agrees. “Let’s stay here until Luis gets worried that we’ve died.”

“And then let’s ask him to make waffles for breakfast when he checks on us,” Scott improvises, mustering a small amount of excitement from underneath the pillow. “Have I ever told you how much I like the way you think?” 

She laughs into the bed again, resisting the urge to open her eyes. “I hope my plan works.”

“Come back over here,” Scott suggests, so Hope scoots over the inch or so closer to him, and snuggles into his side instead of the mattress.

He runs his hand up her back and into her hair. “See? This is much better.”

They stay in bed until Luis knocks on the door, as they had correctly assumed he would. “Scotty? Hope? Anybody naked? Are you dead? Talk to me,” Luis yells in his regular speaking voice.

“Nobody’s naked,” Scott answers groggily, opening one eye. “And I don’t think we’re dead.”

Hope yawns, stretches, and finally answers Luis, “We’re fine, just tired.”

“No doubt no doubt, after busting up all of those rocks. But when you’re Up, Scotty, I got you all set to hack the Scavino firewall downstairs when Kurt gets in, oh and also I made waffles,” Luis chatters, helpfully, from outside the door.

Scott theatrically pantomimes a “yes!” and an accompanying hand gesture that only Hope can see. Hope grins at him and gets out of bed to put on some yoga pants.

“Also Scotty, your phone has been ringing off the hook! I checked just in case it was an Avenger, and they needed you to go save somebody, but it wasn’t.”

Scott rolls his eyes when Luis pauses, and dutifully asks who was calling.

“It was Cassie, maybe I should have got you earlier, that’s on me bro, that’s on me, but you should probably get up soon and call her back.”

Scott shrugs. “It’s fine, I’ll see what’s up when we get downstairs. Give us fifteen?”

“For you guys, I’ll even give you twenty,” Luis says cheerfully, and disappears. 

True to their word, Hope and Scott join him in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. Scott grabs a plate with two waffles on it, and a bowl of fruit from the fridge for Hope. Knowing Hope the way he does, he knows that she’ll make herself a plate of fruit to allegedly eat a healthy breakfast, but eat half his waffles anyway. 

Scott logs into his computer and grabs his phone. “I missed four calls from Cassie,” he comments, concerned, making a little face at the screen. 

“She probably forgot one of her jerseys,” Hope reassures him, slowly sliding his plate toward her for a bite of his waffles like he won’t notice what she’s doing. Scott stifles a grin; it’s a little gross how adorable he thinks she is, but he’s self aware enough by now not to show it. 

“Probably,” he agrees, but he sees a missed call from Maggie, and is just about to tell Hope about it when the phone rings again in his hand.

“Cassica Rabbit, talk to me,” he answers cheerfully by hitting the speaker button when he sees Cassie’s name pop up on the screen. 

He’s greeted with a sniffle and a wobbly, “Daddy?”

Scott mouths an “oh shit” at Hope and Luis.

“Cass, are you ok?” Scott can’t quite keep the alarm out of his voice. “Are you sick?”

With thoughts of teen pregnancy dancing in his brain and apparently across his face, because Hope shakes her head no, he holds his breath. 

“Daddy, I need you to promise you won’t be mad at me,” Cassie says, her voice watery.

He’s about to promise her the world, but Hope is still shaking her head and Luis is mouthing no, and with this A+ parenting team in his pocket, he chews his words thoughtfully instead. 

“I can’t promise I won’t be mad because I don’t know what happened,” Scott answers, reasonably, to a thumbs up from Luis and a smile from Hope. “But I do promise that whatever it is, I’ll still love you and hear your side of the story.” 

“Well,” Cass begins, “I’m in the principal’s office right now because I got caught with weed in my bag. I didn’t even smoke it!”

Scott is momentarily startled, but ultimately relieved because this is sort-of bad, but not teen pregnancy bad. “Yeah, your mom is going to be pretty pissed,” he blurts, then cringes. “What do you need for me to do?”

“There’s an emergency meeting with the guidance counselor this afternoon,” Cassie admits, glumly. “Because there’s a zero tolerance policy for all student athletes. Oh Daddy, will you come? I don’t want it just to be Mom and Paxton. Please?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Hope interjects, “we’ll be there.” 

Scott hangs up with Cassie and looks at Hope quizzically. “Are you sure you want to go to this meeting? You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.” 

Hope smiles serenely at Scott, her eyes soft. “Partners, remember?”

He links his pinky with hers on the table and smiles a small smile back, gratefully. “Thanks, partner.”


	2. Chapter 2

Scott is incredibly nervous about Cassie’s guidance counselor meeting in a way he would never have expected. He’s changed his shirt three times even though they’re all a variation on the same themes, a black t-shirt or a plain button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He can’t concentrate on getting through the Scavino firewall so he’s started sorting through old papers in the attic to throw away instead. 

Sometimes, remembering to breathe is hard. Forty-five minutes into his sorting and piling of old photos, Hope knocks on the door to announce her presence and pokes her head into the room.

“Hey there,” she says lightly, “mind if I join you?”

Scott shifts a pile so that she can sit down. When she does, cross legged next to him, he wordlessly hands her a photograph of Cassie from around the time Hank first recruited him to wear the suit, gap toothed and precocious, in a flower crown. 

“She’s still like that in my head,” he admits, ruefully acknowledging that he’s having a hard time with this whole suddenly a teenager thing without actually saying so. 

Hope rests her head on his shoulder. “You can talk to me, you know.”

Scott tilts his head onto hers, closing his eyes for a second because they’re suddenly a little bit wet. “I know. I just don’t know what to say. I feel like I’m being called in to be her Dad for the first time ever right now, and I’m not sure if I have what it takes.” 

She moves her head away from his shoulder, but she doesn’t break contact, taking his hand instead.

“Scott. Look at me.” 

Scott opens his eyes and looks at her, her green eyes serious, her face open and earnest. 

“You have always, always been a great father. It’s one of the best things about you. You have a daughter who got in trouble and the first thing she did was call you to be there for her. I would never have called Hank.” 

Hope smiles at him fondly, so he smiles back. 

“Thank you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he says, his good humor returning, “but I have an important question.” 

He pauses dramatically. She cocks her head, waiting.

“Is this shirt okay?” 

Her mouth quirks into one of her toothier grins and she shoves him away with her fingertips. “You’re the worst, but the shirt is fine.” 

***

Scott and Hope arrive at the guidance counselor’s office a little before the 4:30 meeting. Cassie is already inside with the counselor, Mrs. Wright, and Maggie is pacing in front of the door. Paxton is on his way.

“Maggie,” Scott says, cautiously, in greeting.

“We’ve been going to family therapy,” Maggie blurts at Scott, clearly frustrated, without pleasantries. “Every Tuesday night. She doesn’t say a word when we’re in therapy, not one word. And then last night, we went home and she said therapy was stupid, and that she doesn’t want to go anymore, and now this.”

Scott puts his hands on Maggie’s shoulders. “Breathe. It’s going to be okay.”

“Marijuana, Scott?” Maggie glares at him and puts her hands on her hips. “She knows how I feel about drugs. And she knows why.”

Scott turns to Hope. “I was high when I drove that car into the pool,” he offers, by way of an explanation for Maggie’s point of view, trying to hide that he’s annoyed that it’s coming up again. He thought the animosity about all things prison related died sometime in 2015, but maybe not, and that stings.

Scott is saved from himself when the door to the guidance office opens and Mrs. Wright ushers them inside. There are chairs set up in a circle, and they all wordlessly take a seat. Mrs. Wright is about to close the door when Paxton rushes in, apologizing for being late.

Maggie glares at Paxton. Her glare makes Scott uncomfortable.

Cassie definitely notices. “See? It’s stuff like that,” she says, petulantly, pointing back and forth between Maggie and Paxton, then crossing her arms. “They’re always mad at each other since Paxton came back.” 

Mrs. Wright clears her throat. “Cassie and I were talking a bit about why she had marijuana in her backpack.”

“How exactly was the marijuana found?” Paxton’s professional cop veneer is on tightly.

“Routine drug dogs,” Mrs. Wright answers, matter-of-factly.

“Drug dogs in a school? Students have rights in a school,” Maggie declares. “You can’t do that!”

Scott smiles to himself about Maggie, all his earlier ire forgotten; once a Riot Girl, always a Riot Girl, and sometimes he forgets that she just hates The Man. 

“Actually, they can,” Paxton tells her, almost apologetically. Maggie isn’t amused.

“I didn’t even smoke it yet,” Cassie grumbles. “I just had it for later, to smoke at home or something, because home super sucks right now.” 

“Cassandra!” Maggie looks dangerously like she’s about to cry.

Mrs. Wright steps in, not a moment too soon, glancing at Cassie. “Maybe Cassie can explain what she means? In a less angry way?”

“When I’m at home, you guys fight and it makes me feel like a problem,” Cassie mutters, looking up at the ceiling, arms still crossed. “You’re always stopping the conversations when I come in the room, you don’t talk, and you sleep in separate bedrooms. It’s like you’re weird strangers. You need some time alone to reconnect or whatever.” 

Paxton looks surprised to be called out by a teenager, and Maggie sniffles back tears. Scott and Hope make eye contact for a split second because this is way more intense than Scott bargained for when they stepped into the room and it’s awkward. He wants to hold Hope’s hand through this, but he resists the urge, mostly because he doesn’t want to seem like he’s gloating, but also because he’s uncomfortable bearing witness to Maggie’s relationship trouble and doesn’t want to make it worse.

“What do you think the solution is, if it’s not smoking the marijuana from your bag?” Scott has to hand it to Mrs. Wright, she gets to the point very quickly.

“I want to go live with my Dad and Hope,” Cassie answers, with a tiny glint of her regular mischief back in her eyes. “It’ll give my Mom and Paxton some time to get to know each other again without worrying about me every day. I've thought about it a lot. I don’t even mind that Dad grabs Hope’s butt every day before they go for a run, I think I should live there.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, there are no butts at my house,” Scott interrupts, helplessly, making awkward eye contact with Mrs. Wright. 

“You want to move away?” Maggie also interrupts, silent tears starting to track down her face.

“This is a little manipulative, Cass,” Paxton points out, and Cassie only shrugs, probably because it is.

Hope reigns them all in as skillfully as she did when she worked at Pym Tech, saying what Scott meant even though he made the comment about butts, “maybe this is something we should all consider as at least a possibility?” 

Cassie smiles gratefully at Hope. Scott agrees that they should talk about this because it’s a serious request, and then Paxton agrees too. Maggie is the holdout, but after a few too-long bars of silence, she agrees to have a real discussion about it.

Mrs. Wright nods quickly, efficiently, and looks thoughtful. “I think in light of what I’ve heard today, and Cassie’s ranking in the class being as high as it is, that my recommendation to the principal will be a two game suspension and detention both tomorrow and Friday.”

Cassie opens her mouth to object but Scott surreptitiously shakes his head at her, so she shuts her mouth and slumps back into her seat, accepting her fate. 

After the meeting, Scott follows Hope to the sports car they chose for the day, a little shell shocked by Cassie’s request. He remembers the court dates in 2015, the arguments about child support, petitioning for visitation rights, the early agreements for shared custody. But mostly, he remembers Maggie’s continual objections: He has a felony record. He doesn’t work full time. He’s in debt. He’s single. He lives with roommates who are also felons. He doesn’t value stability.

Scott sits in the passenger seat while his mind churns, uncharacteristically quiet, and he rubs at the bridge of his nose with one hand. 

Hope looks at him, her eyes full of compassion again, starting the car but not driving away from the school. “I know today was a lot, but I think that if you want this, we could do it.”

“Ugh, she’s going to fight it, I know she is,” Scott groans, “and am I really all that different from 2015? Like, really? I work on commission, I mean I’m pretty damn expensive, but it’s still commission and not a salary, so I’m still kind of broke. My house isn’t even my house, it technically belongs to the Avengers, and Luis lives in it.”

He takes a breath, but it doesn’t help, so he pushes to get it all out of his brain instead. “And I mean, I could ask him to move out, but housing is so hard to find after the Snap, and he’s an ex-con, so it’s even worse! And he’s been there for five years while I was stuck in the Quantum Realm, so that would be wrong, Hope, like really wrong, so I don’t want to do that to him.” 

Scott pauses again and puts the heel of his hand into his forehead, looking pained. “Even though they’re having trouble, they’re still married, and the judge loved reminding me that she had that kind of stability but I’m just like a —“ 

“Scott, you have to stop this,” Hope orders, sternly, and he opens his eyes and looks at her, really looks at her, because while she’s often a matter of fact, blunt speaker, he hasn’t heard her like this in a long time. 

“You have a job, you have a house, and if I’m not mistaken, _I live there with you_. You’re not alone in this, I’m with you. I know you’re scared but you have to focus, okay? Do you want Cassie to live with us?” 

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes closed again, “of course. More than anything.”

“Then let’s get her,” Hope says simply, and Scott opens his eyes to her smile. They reach across the seats for each other, the entire fancy gear shift be damned, and he kisses her with all he’s got. 

They stop kissing only when somebody leans on a car horn, and of course it’s Maggie, Paxton, and Cassie who catch them making out in the school parking lot like teenagers themselves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gets a lil bit racy, so if you’re squeamish, it’s the middle part and you can skip to the second set of stars. But let’s be real. You’re gonna read it anyway.

When Scott and Hope return to the house, it’s nearing dinnertime and Scott expects that Dave and Kurt would have gone home already. He’s wrong, because they’re working in the kitchen with Luis, clearly waiting for them to return. 

Dave is not working on X-Con projects and instead busy mixing some sort of vegetable dish in a large bowl. The back door is open, so it's obvious that Luis has put meat on the grill for dinner so Scott doesn’t have to cook. Luis is a really great friend. 

“Scotty? Hope? Did it go okay?” Luis looks up, worried and expectant.

“Yes, is good?” Kurt stops typing on the computer, and Dave looks up from the bowl.

“Cassie wants to come live here,” Scott blurts without preamble. 

“Oh hey Scotty! That’s great!” Luis moves to hug him, but notices how pale Scott is, and the lack of chatter. He turns to Hope, worried, “it is great, isn’t it?”

“I think so,” Hope says, swiping a carrot stick from the counter, “but Scott is having a hard time.”

“I’m not having a hard time with the idea of it, it’s just that it won’t happen, so we shouldn’t get our hopes up,” he explains to Luis, while looking at Hope, trying to make her understand with his eyes. 

“Why wouldn’t it happen, Scotty?” 

Scott rubs the back of his neck, fidgeting because he’s annoyed that nobody seems to understand what he’s saying, so he explodes. “For the same reason as 2015, okay? I can’t give her what they can.” 

“Is not 2015,” Kurt says, closing the computer.

“I know that, it’s 2023, I know that,” Scott says, exasperated. “There’s been a time jump, I know.”

Luis shakes his head. “No no no no, it’s not like 2015, that’s what he means. We have a business now. I got my associates degree in business management and everything, I’m like mad legit now, bro.” 

“Haven’t you wondered why I leave early on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Scott?” Dave quirks an eyebrow at him. 

Scott shrugs sheepishly, maybe he hasn’t been the most observant friend and coworker, so he feels a little bad.

“I’m going to school, man! I’m going to get a degree in marketing. I’m going to take us bigtime, man!”

“Hey that’s great, man,” Scott says, genuinely proud of Dave for coming back from the Snap and getting right down to business. “It’s really great. I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

“Yes,” Kurt interrupts. “And I have associates degree in phlebotomy.”

Hope cuts in, surprised, “blood drawing?”

“Hey, pay good money. I invest in X-Con, I co-own now.” 

Hope smiles, “Hey, that’s amazing, Kurt. I know how badly you wanted to buy in.”

Scott turns to her, really shocked. How does she know? Has he really been this unobservant? 

Kurt points at Hope. “I tell you this before. You remember? Yes! Thank you.” 

Luis claps his hands excitedly. “So yeah Scotty, it’s not like 2015 at all anymore, bro. With some room switching and a lot of redecorating, this house would be amazing and I’ve wanted to try my hand at home decorating, you know? Maybe as a little side project? Work with some wallpaper and new furniture. I’d be happy to write up some of my ideas for you, just for you and Hope to look at first to see if you like them — oh snap, the meat—”

Luis stops talking and abruptly runs outside with a pair of tongs. 

“Man, come on now, you’re a superhero, both of you,” Dave scoffs, waving his hand dismissively. “You saved the world. That’s worth custody right there!” 

Scott rubs his face again, emotionally exhausted, and physically shakes himself out of his mood. “Thanks guys,” he says, relieved but sincere, and throws his arm around Hope. She shakes her head, but smiles up at him and returns the half-hug. He knows she’s exasperated with his mood swings and he loves her more for putting up with his self doubt. “I do think this could be really cool.” 

Luis returns from turning the meat to everybody smiling. “What’d I miss?” 

***

Scott is in a much better mood by bedtime. After a shower, he has flopped himself down on his back on the bed in a t-shirt and boxers, one arm behind his head, tired and content. A few minutes later, he hears the water turn off as Hope finishes her shower. She comes into the room, humming to herself, one towel knotted around her body and another one wrapped around her hair.

Scott eyes her appreciatively while she searches in her drawer for a t-shirt. He watches as she drops the towel from around her body and puts an oversized t-shirt on, and he keeps watching as she starts looking for a pair of underwear. Suddenly he doesn’t feel so tired anymore. Using the athletic skills that he’s particularly proud of, he quietly launches off the bed behind her to brazenly palm her butt, the very finest butt in his opinion, even better than America’s ass because it’s hers.

“Scott,” she yelps, startled, “what are you —“

“It should be pretty obvious what I’m doing,” Scott murmurs, a bit roguishly, “but just in case it isn’t…” 

“I thought there weren’t butts in your house,” she teases him, eyelids fluttering as his hands wander. 

“There can be butts in private,” he tells her, mouthing where her neck and shoulder meet. 

“Is that so,” she breathes, his stubble rasping pleasantly against her neck. 

Scott takes off his shirt and starts steering her back toward the bed, but Hope has other ideas, quickly turning them around so that Scott hits the bed first. Hope dims the light with the remote control Scott has wired for the electrical systems in the bedroom. 

Her green eyes glint in the low light, making them glow like she’s a nocturnal creature while she looks over his body. Scott takes a shallow breath; goddamn, he’s a lucky man.

“You’ve had a really bad day, and you’ve been in your head,” Hope tells him, matter of factly. She is seductive as hell to him right now, her gaze assessing and frank. “Why don’t you let me steer this ship and you just focus on what I’m doing?”

Scott swallows convulsively. “Ungh,” he says, his eyes lighting up, which he hopes conveys enthusiastic consent. Hope pushes him back further onto the bed and takes the towel off of her damp hair. She moves to stand between his legs, running her hands down his abs, pausing lower, where she can feel his pulse racing. He gasps when she moves to where he can’t see her, and good lord does he feel her while she’s there. 

Too few minutes later, he lets a sort of strangled but loud, “Jesus Christ, I love you” fly, and he can feel her smile against his hip bone and the rush of air of her laughter.

“You’re going to have to learn how to be quieter when she moves in,” Hope says, still laughing softly, as he catches his breath.

“I’ll show you loud,” Scott replies somewhat petulantly, reaching for her and pulling her onto the bed with him. A few minutes more, and he’s right; she’s loud too.

***

After a quick trip to the bathroom, Hope returns and turns the light off. Scott sprawls again on his back with one arm behind his head. Hope gets in next to him and curls on her side into him, so he puts his free arm around her. She kisses his chest and hums contentedly. The buzzing in his brain is blessedly quiet to go along with the comfortable silence in the room. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to feel heavy, so he closes them, and he falls asleep.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he wakes because Hope said his name in the dark. “Scott.” 

He struggles through the veil of sleep and answers her slowly, “Yeah? Did you barf or something?” 

“No, I didn’t throw up — what?” Hope laughs at him, her surprise at his question obvious.

“The only time somebody wakes me in the middle of the night is because they barfed,” Scott explains apologetically, with a yawn. “It’s a Dad thing, I guess.” 

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Hope says, “but no, I didn’t barf.”

“So what’s up?” Scott’s brain is a little foggy, but he’s getting up to speed. “Bad dream?”

“No, I was thinking about something and it is too big to wait until morning.” Scott can hear uncertainty in her voice, so he forges ahead, keeping himself as cheerful as he can in the middle of the night. 

“Color me intrigued, Van Dyne. I'm absolutely dying with suspense at,” he pauses dramatically, “three oh four in the morning.”

“I think we should get married,” she blurts, and for one of the very few times in his life, Scott is stunned, totally unable to speak. Never in a million years would he have expected that to be what came out of her mouth in the middle of the night. Of course he wants to marry her, she’s the perfect woman for him in every possible way, and he loves her in a way that he doesn’t think he ever felt about anybody, even Maggie, and he loved Maggie too. 

But, he knows that it’s really only been eight months since they’ve been back from the Snap, and he would have imagined that Hope would have needed much more time to know she wanted to marry him. Just because he’s known for awhile that he would go to the ends of the earth and back for her does not mean she’s ready. He’s done this before, and she hasn’t. His brain screeches to a halt. Is he even awake? Is she? Is this a dream? 

He pinches her leg, so she yelps. “Ouch! What was that even for, Lang?”

“I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“No, I said I think we should get married, it’s different,” Hope explains, hurriedly, splitting hairs because she’s embarrassed herself. “It would solve your stability issues and money worries.”

Scott grabs her hand. “I don’t want to get married because it solves my stability issues or money stuff,” he says, solemnly. “I want to get married because I love you and I want to be partners forever, and because you want that too.” 

There’s no answer, so he clears his throat. “Hope?”

Scott realizes she’s sniffling. “Come here,” he says, pulling her into his lap. “Did you want me to think of marriage as a business merger? I can’t. I’m way too much of a romantic for that.” 

She laughs a watery giggle, and he can see enough in the dark to know that her face is wet. “Do I have to romance you?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt,” Scott admits, trying to sound like he’s joking, but he isn’t joking at all. 

“I’m going to turn on the lights,” she says, “close your eyes.”

Before he can ask why she needs the lights on, the lights go on, and he squints at her, raising an eyebrow quizzically. 

Hope gets out of bed, and slowly goes down on one knee on his side of the bed. The next thing he knows, he’s out of bed, he’s sniffling too, and they’re kissing on the floor next to the bed, both laughing in wonder at what just happened. 

When they come up for air, Hope looks at him seriously. “That was a yes, right?” 

Scott sobers immediately. “Yeah, that was.”


	4. Chapter 4

The phone alarm is blaring at 6:30am on Thursday morning, heedless of the commotion from the night before. Scott is startled awake again, and starts reaching over Hope to hit her phone and shut it off in favor of more sleep. Hope pokes him square in the armpit and he lets out an unexpected and very high pitched squeal. 

Hope laughs so hard she starts crying, which is both embarrassing for him and adorable for her, because this is the first time she let herself go like this in front of him and he likes it. Maybe his involuntary squeak was that ridiculous. Maybe this is the benefit of their middle of the night marriage plan. Either way, Scott is awake to run after all, which was Hope’s purpose for poking him in the first place. 

They wordlessly change into their running clothes and head outside, the early morning fog and cool air perfect for a run. Scott is faster than Hope though he’d never say so, so he goes at whatever pace she wants to go, theatrically griping about running at all. Today is Thursday, so it’s a shorter run day and then they’ll spend some time on the mats in the basement.

Scott’s knee audibly creaks and he wonders idly if the Avengers have health care benefits. They run in silence, though today she turns to look at him every so often and give him a tiny smile. She’s so pleased that he thinks that maybe he should have mentioned marriage earlier, just to get her to give him that little smile. But he knows better. That’s the thing about knowing somebody, really knowing them, how he knows Hope — Hope wasn’t ready for marriage until she said she was last night, and he was right to wait for her to give him a sign. 

“I forgot to ask,” she asks, breathing hard from their run, “how is the new comm device working?”

Scott has been working on a smaller, more comfortable communication device for commanding the ants. Sometimes it feels uncomfortable under his helmet and sometimes it moves so that he can’t communicate as well as he’d like, especially from a distance. 

“Not bad,” he answers, breathless and somehow nonchalant. He taps at his ear.

“You have it in your ear right now? I didn’t even see it. I’m impressed,” she says, motioning for him to duck a little so she can look to see how it fits. He thinks it’s an excuse to touch his face, so he lets her tilt his head this way and that. She finishes her investigation and asks, “how’s it working?”

Wordlessly, Scott spells “Scott loves Hope” inside a heart symbol onto the stucco wall up ahead in ants. 

Hope stops running to look at it, rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Ugh, no, you’re such a cheeseball,” she groans, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling too wide.

Scott deadpans, “Oh I’m sorry, was that too much?” 

“Way too much, yes,” she argues vehemently, but her eyes are soft. 

“If you say so, but this is happening,” Scott says, while reaching out to touch her bottom lip, “so I know you liked it.”

Hope looks up at him through her lashes, feelings in her eyes. Smiling, he drops his hand from her lip, letting her off the hook. He starts jogging again towards home, and as he passes Hope, she smacks his butt.

“It was cute,” she calls out, and chases him all the way home.

After they run, they spar on the mats in the basement for awhile, a real workout, and as usual, Hope shows him some sadistic new martial arts moves. He practices how to do the moves with her slowly, picking up the movements, and then she kicks his ass by showing how they really work in a fight. 

He sits down after they finish on the mats, slimy with sweat and drinking water because he always worries about his kidneys. Hope is also sweaty, but she’s always more energetic after she kicks his ass than he is, so she’s still standing over him. 

“Your last right high kick is going to leave a mark,” Scott comments, “so, on a scale of 1-10, how proud are you?”

“Ehhh, 4. It was a little too easy,” she teases, leaning down to playfully push his nose. 

“Ha, ha,” he retorts, swatting at her hand and mopping his dripping brow with a towel. He starts to stretch out, because he’s not getting any younger, and he’s going to be sore as hell.

“Still having your regular coffee date with Maggie?” Hope sits in front of him to stretch, too, and looks up to see his reaction.

“Yes,” he says, groaning as he finishes stretching, “and I don’t want to start off the meeting by pissing her off by being late so I should probably get going. See you for dinner?”

“Of course. Like I always say, get you a man who can cook,” Hope says, even though he’s sure she’s never actually said that even once in her life. She’s still visibly gleeful about kicking his ass, and maybe also about the prospect of getting married. She tilts her head up for a brief kiss on his way out, and he doesn’t ask which one is making her this cheerful. Sometimes it’s better not knowing. 

***

Worrying about being late, Scott chooses to go out in the suit with ants as transportation. He’s been working with two queen ants from two different colonies and can’t pick which one to fly, so he usually just goes with both of them. Today, he rides Gillian ANT-derson and Cate Bl-ANT-chett flies along with them dutifully.

Scott gets to the coffee shop that he and Maggie have been going to since they were in high school. Though it’s had different names, the shop has always had the same layout, so he makes his way to “their” table in the back left corner. It’s empty; he’s too early because he’s nervous, and it’s between the breakfast and the lunch rush. 

As soon as he sits down with his latte, his phone rings and for a sinking second he thinks it’s Maggie calling to cancel, but it’s Sam Wilson. 

Scott answers using the same device from earlier that commanded the ants, part of the new electrical project he’s been working on for Hank, to improve communication with Bluetooth. 

“Oh Captain, my Captain,” Scott answers brightly. 

“How does it hang, Lang?” Sam’s voice comes through the comm system loud and clear, which pleases Scott, as does the greeting. 

“A little to the left, boss man!”

Sam groans, and Scott can just about hear him rolling his eyes. 

Scott pushes ahead like he didn’t make that joke at all, “so? How’s New York? How are all of the Heroes for Hire that you're babysitting? Tell me, does the air still smell like fresh hot garbage on a stagnant barge to hell or did the Snap fix that particular problem?” 

“Ha ha, small fry, you’re very funny... Anybody ever tell you that you’re a lot to deal with?” Sam’s tone is equal parts annoyance and affection. 

“Every day,” Scott admits proudly, “And yet she still sticks around.”

“Ah yes, how is Ms. Van Dyne?”

Even though he knows Sam has limited time, Scott is bursting with post-latte energy, his general exuberance, and genuine excitement to tell somebody and why not Sam? “Hope’s great. We’re getting married!”

There’s an unusually long beat of silence and then Sam’s droll reply, “...does _she_ know about this?” 

“Oh ha ha, everybody’s a comedian these days. Yes, she knows.” Scott rolls his eyes, because he’s a lot of things, but he is not delusional about marriage. “She’s the one who asked.”

Scott can practically hear Sam’s grin through the phone. 

“Yeah, that seems about right. Well then, my biggest congratulations Tic Tac, that’s excellent news.”

“Hey, thanks man. I appreciate it. So what did you call about anyway?” 

“First, I wanted to thank you for handling that mountain pass collapse so quickly, and thank you for the weekly enchilada drop off for the after school snack program in San Jose,” Sam starts.

“It’s no problem,” Scott jumps in eagerly. “We want to help.”

Sam cuts in before Scott can start rambling, which honestly, good for Sam for anticipating Scott’s needs. “Glad to hear it, little buddy! I have a new project for you, if you’ve got the time.”

“Absolutely. Lay it on me,” Scott says proudly, chest puffed, because he’s getting called in as an Avenger again, and shit, this never stops being exciting. 

“Need you to keep an eye out for anything weird involving a guy with engine grease for a face that’s going around like a cannibal Robin Hood and killing crime suspects by eating their heads,” Sam explains. “No action necessary, just recon.”

Scott is glad he isn’t drinking his coffee because he would have spit it out all over the table. “Engine grease for a _what_?”

“I know you got this, Lang,” Sam says, chuckling as he hangs up on Scott. 

Scott sputters at the audacity of the hangup. He stares dumbfoundedly at the phone where Sam’s profile picture just had been, wondering how in the hell he’s supposed to tell Hope about this new mission, how they’re going to find this guy, and what the hell they’re actually going to do if they find him. Run away is the most likely answer because it’s just recon and he has engine grease for a _face?_

“Scott? Are you okay?”

Scott is snapped out of his mental stroll into weird shit forest by Maggie, who has plopped herself down across from him at the table, a fresh latte for him and an iced coffee with three packets of Splenda for her. 

“I’m fine,” he says, trying to stop imagining what Ol Grease Face really looks like. He smiles at her gently, “but we obviously need to talk.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to Rachel and Sam for talking me through both Scott and Maggie headcanons and 90s jokes. A+ work.

“Hello to you too,” Maggie says drily, making a face, and peeking at his phone. “Was that some official superhero business?”

“It was, actually,” Scott says excitedly, but then deflates a bit. “I’m supposed to research this guy who ah, ...you know what? It’s not that important, really.”

Maggie raises one eyebrow and looks at him. “I’m guessing it’s something I wouldn’t be happy about if I knew?”

“Oh yeah,” Scott agrees. “Absolutely would not be happy.”

“Got it.”

They’re both quiet for a second and then Maggie sighs. “You know it’s not easy raising a teenager, right? Especially not one as bright as Cassie with your sense of adventure.”

“Our sense of adventure,” Scott reminds her, fondly. “I seem to remember driving to Vegas in the middle of the night to see the Warped Tour with you even though your parents said no.”

Maggie grins at him. “Ah, the good old days of West Coast punk rock.” 

Scott smiles back and just goes for it, because this is what they need to talk about. “Look Maggie, I really think Cassie is trying to do something nice for you. I think she wants you to be able to spend some time and reconnect with Paxton without having to worry about her. I don’t she’s trying to hurt you.”

Maggie sighs. “I know that. But even if she were with you full time, I would still worry about her, Scott. I had five really long years where it was just me there to take care of her, and I’m not sure if I can just let her go.”

Scott nods. “I get that, I do. But you can consider it my turn to be her Dad, and I want to step up. I want to get to know her how you know her. And things are different for me than they used to be, so you don’t have to worry about my lack of responsibility getting in the way.”

“I’ve trusted you for years now, even when you were on house arrest for breaking an airport in Germany. Now we’re talking about totally revamping the agreement, and it seems really sudden. Tell me why you think it’ll be okay, and I promise I’ll listen.” 

Maggie looks up at him, her face open, and he trusts her enough to know she really is listening. They’ve known each other since high school, and their friendship is what got them through when he was in prison, and when she remarried, and will get them through this. Because he truly believes her, he takes a deep breath.

“I get paid, a lot actually, for my security systems,” Scott answers bluntly. “We run a successful business. I have a house, free of debt. Hope is in my life, and we’re going to get married, so it won’t be just a house full of 40-something bachelors—” 

Maggie knocks over her almost empty except for the ice coffee cup and rights it again, cutting him off. “You and Hope are doing what now?”

“We live together,” Scott says slowly, “I love her, and she loves me, so we are going to get married.”

Maggie looks at him skeptically, but her eyes are still soft, trying to understand. “Scott. You’ve been together for only a few months here and there out of what, eight years? Don’t you think this is maybe going a little too quickly?” 

“It’s been three years for us,” Scott reminds her, working on keeping his tone even and calm, because he doesn’t want to fight about this at all. “We’ve been together for eight months this time around, plus the time before the snap. And then the year before Germany. 

“But you broke up already once because of Germany,” Maggie points out. “Couldn’t this just be some kind of heightened bond after a traumatic experience? I’ve seen you infatuated before, so are you sure you—.”

“Excuse me, who do you think I was infatuated with before?”

“Scott! We’re friends because you were being bullied for having a crush on that guy who played Paris in that Drama Club production of Romeo and Juliet! You were all alone because of those bullies, so I sat with you at lunch!” 

Scott gapes at her. “Even if I did have a crush on that guy, because that guy was really hot, that’s not the reason you and I are friends — we’re friends because you asked me if I wanted to go see Save Ferris when they opened for Reel Big Fish with you because your other friends liked rap! And I went!”

“Yeah okay Scott, if you say so,” Maggie scoffs.

“Seriously, Maggie, you can’t just retcon our friendship like you’re JK Rowling,” Scott starts, a little heated, but he manages to self censor and get out of this conversational detour. He looks at Maggie and meets her eyes. “I love Hope, Maggie. I mean, I really love her. I have for a long time.” 

Maggie softens at the look on his face, he can definitely tell, so he keeps talking as calmly as he can, folding his hands together to keep from wildly gesturing.

“You’re my best friend and we’ve been through a lot. So can you try to trust me when I say that Hope and I know what we want? This isn’t a casual thing to me. It’s not a trauma whatever you just said keeping us together.”

Sighing again, and looking at him critically for any sign if a joke, finally Maggie nods. “Okay, I believe you. I still wish Cassie would have done this a different way, like maybe just asking us if this would be possible instead of having everything out with a guidance counselor.”

“That may be genetic,” Scott jokes, apologetically. “Taking the long way to get a short distance is definitely a Lang thing.”

“Definitely,” Maggie agrees, but she still seems preoccupied. 

“Talk to me,” Scott wheedles, gently, “I know something is wrong.” 

“Okay, but this is going to need chocolate.” Her smile is tremulous and uncertain, but Scott has always been a good listener, and a decent secret keeper when necessary. 

Scott goes to the counter to buy a slice of cake to share, and sits back down. “Spill it, Mags.”

Maggie explains that she spent several years thinking Paxton was dead, and that just about a year before Paxton returned, she went on a couple of dates with somebody else. It wasn’t super serious, but he had met Cassie once, so it also wasn’t a total non-issue. Maggie has been feeling guilty, and out of guilt she’s been sleeping in the guest bedroom. She hasn’t told anybody until now.

Scott pushes the chocolate frosting side of the cake over to Maggie even though he usually fights her for it. “Is he still in the picture at all?”

“No, not for awhile, but I feel like I cheated while Paxton was at war, or something.”

Scott quirks an eyebrow at her. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but that’s a tad dramatic, don’t you think? Don’t you think he’d forgive you for that?”

“I don’t want him to know I gave up on him,” Maggie says, miserably. 

“How were you possibly going to know it was reversible?”

Maggie shrugs. 

“Maggie. I’m serious. You couldn’t possibly have known it was reversible. You were just trying to live a life.” 

“You didn’t give up,” Maggie argues, pointing her fork at him. 

“I’m not known for rational behavior,” Scott says, waving his fork back at her and then scooping up a chunk of raspberry filling. “I was only back for three weeks without her. I had no idea what I was doing. I almost died so many times. Don’t let all of my almost deaths be in vain, Maggie. Figure things out with Paxton, and if they work, great, and if they don’t, at least you tried.”

“Who would have ever thought I’d be listening to your relationship advice?” Maggie looks up at the ceiling and takes a breath, a rueful half smile.

“I think I resent the meaning of that, but at the same time, you are listening, and that’s pretty cool.” 

He smiles a half smile back at her, and they finish the cake in silence. When almost every crumb is gone, Maggie wipes her mouth and looks at him, nodding. “Okay. It’s October, so why don’t we try this out until Thanksgiving? As a trial run?” 

Scott gapes at her again. “As in, Cassie will come live with me?” 

Maggie nods yes. “If that’s what you want, yeah.” 

Scott blinks and he can’t help tearing up a little. “Thanks, Maggie. I won’t let you down.”

*** 

Scott rushes home and is disappointed because Hope isn’t there, she’s at the lab, but the guys are in the kitchen working. 

“What do you say, you guys ready to be full time uncles?”

The resulting whooping and hollering warms Scott’s heart.

“We going to be just like Full House,” Kurt assures him, and Scott can’t help but laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all you guys who are still reading this. This chapter is for rachel, who made me rethink Hope’s house sorting.

When Scott arrives to the lab, Hope, Janet and Hank are nowhere to be found, which generally means they’re working on something in the Quantum room. He doesn’t want to disturb them; besides, he saw Bill Foster’s car in the lot, and that means Ava is here. Try as he might, Ava still freaks him out a little. 

Scott settles into his work station at the lab and puts down his comm device and his phone. He opens the drawer to get his miniature tool set, and a black cloth to help him see the parts more clearly. He puts on his reading glasses, a tiny bit self conscious because Cassie chose them and they’re super trendy. Is he too old for super trendy tortoise shell?

He’s just getting his schematic out of the pocket of his jeans when Hank arrives at the lab and pins him with a steely glare from behind his also very trendy clear glasses. 

“Do you have something to tell me, Scott?”

Scott has no idea what Hope has told Hank at this point. Does he know about Cassie’s plan to move in? Does he know that he and Hope are talking about marriage? Does he know that Scott’s comm system is vastly better than his own? Better to play it cool, then. 

“I don’t know, do _you_ have something to tell _me_ , Hank?” 

That was not cool at all, in retrospect, a fact Scott knows the second after the words leave his mouth. 

“What in the world would I have to tell you, Scott?”

Scott shrugs and goes with the truth, something that has a fifty fifty shot with Hank. “Honestly Hank, it’s been a crazy couple of days, and I don’t really know what you’re getting at right now.”

“You and Hope. You and Hope are talking about marriage!” Hank sounds like he’s rapidly approaching a blastoff point into the sun. 

“Oh yeah, that,” Scott says, nonchalantly, because the less excited he sounds, the more it will annoy Hank, and sometimes annoying Hank is fun. 

“Yeah, that!” Hank’s face is turning bright red as his glasses slip down his nose. “That’s a big deal, Scott. It’s something you should have said to me before you asked her, seeing as how I’m her father!”

Well now, that’s ridiculous, because Hope is thirty-eight and she’s been taking care of herself for more than twenty years. Scott puts his hands in the air to stop the lecture. “Whoa whoa whoa. First, I don’t need your permission and I really don’t think Hope would want me to ask for it. Second, I didn’t ask her, she asked me.”

Hank has had his mouth open while Scott was speaking, clearly ready to jump in and argue, but he closes it and actually chuckles, much to Scott’s surprise. “She asked you?” 

Scott nods, and Hank cracks the tiniest fraction of a half smile. “That seems about right.”

“I don’t know why everybody keeps saying that.”

“Saying what?” Hope appears in the door to the lab, ponytailed and concerned, “I heard Dad yelling.”

“Everybody relaxes when I tell them you asked me to marry you and not the other way around,” Scott explains, looking at her, finally feeling free enough not to hide the full extent of what a lovesick moron he is when she’s around. 

“Scott,” Hope murmurs, blushing and biting her lower lip to keep from smiling, “tone it down.”

“So you’re not mad,” Scott asks Hank, trying to understand what’s happening right now, because Hank isn’t known for his good tempered acceptance of anything, but he seems to be just fine. 

“Not if she asked you, I trust that Hope knows what she wants. Besides, this was inevitable.”

Scott nods knowingly, “is this because I time traveled to get her back? I’ve heard this before.”

“No, this is because you pined after her like you were in a romance novel for two years after Germany. I knew that if she ever took you back, this was going to happen.”

Scott scoffs, turning red, “C’mon Hank, don’t you think ‘pined’ is a little too dramatic?”

“No Scott, I don’t,” Hank declares.

“Thanks, Dad,” Hope interrupts, without a hint of sarcasm in her voice but she eyes Scott to shut him up, “I appreciate the confidence.”

As she says it, Janet, Bill and Ava come into the lab to congratulate them as well. Janet hugs Hope while Bill and Hank shake hands like Hank did something that somehow has bearing in this engagement.

Ava holds her arms out for a hug, and Scott cringes slightly because Ava’s arms sometimes go right through him and it really gives him the creeps, but today she’s completely solid. He gives her a real hug as she offers her well-wishes.

They get so caught up in the engagement excitement at the lab that Scott ends up telling Hope about Cassie on the car ride home. The news about Cassie sends Hope into a flurry of activity in which somehow she convinces Scott order new furniture for Cassie’s room and the living room. Luis joins them, and after a celebratory beer or two for the engagement, the three of them spend the entire evening piling up the old, dilapidated furniture outside. Scott knows that means they’ll be lifting it again to take it to the dump because garbage collection is still haphazard after the Snap, but he’s too happy to care.

After the furniture hijinks that last well into the twilight, Scott convinces everybody to get pizza. The pizza takes so long to arrive that Luis eats half a jar of peanut butter and passes out on the couch. Hope declares that she wants to break her cardinal rule against eating food outside of a designated eating area to have pizza in bed while they watch the news. 

Scott can’t help it, he thinks it’s both adorable and sexy watching her sit cross legged in bed, trying to keep the cheese from stringing from the plate all the way to her mouth. She neatly wipes her face after every bite, collecting crumbs deftly on the plate. It’s mesmerizing how neat she is, so he can’t stop staring. 

“You’re so weird,” she says, making a face and balling up the napkin to throw it at him.

He flops down next to her on his back after taking a detour for a bite of pizza off her plate. “Good weird, though,” he insists through his mouthful of cheese.

“Good weird,” she agrees, methodically eating another slice, “I haven’t done this since high school.”

“Eat pizza in bed?”

“Yeah! I mean, I really don’t like crumbs in the sheets, but also I didn’t have that many friends to eat pizza with anywhere,” she admits, sheepishly. “I was very studious, and I wanted to be the youngest Stark intern, so I didn’t really do anything fun. What if Cassie figures out that I’m not cool?”

“You’re definitely cool,” Scott reassures her, and uses his index finger to wipe an errant speck of sauce from her cheek. “At least, I think you’re cool.” 

“Scott, I’m serious. I had, like, one girlfriend in high school and most of the time we just studied chemistry together in the science labs. I didn’t do the fun things you did.”

“If by studied chemistry in the science labs you mean made out by your lockers, then you had the exact same kind of fun I did.” He wiggles his eyebrows theatrically and tilts her chin up gently to look at him. She smiles a little, and he feels immediately better for making her smile.

“Hope, I was a Drama Club nerd who liked third wave ska music and all of the checkerboard bowling shirts, so I’m really flattered that you thought I could have been cool.”

Hope’s smile widens, so he tucks her hair behind her ear so he can see her dimples. 

“Once she moves in, neither of us will be cool to her anymore. She’s a sixteen year old girl who will be surprised to learn that you and I won’t let her run wild the way she thinks we will.”

She looks at him fondly. “Thanks for the pep talk. And for not making fun of me for being a dork in high school.” 

“Are you kidding? I bet teenage Hope was great. I see you as this beautiful, brainy, angry little weirdo who would have totally kicked my ass. Come to think of it, I’ve always wanted to know a Ravenclaw.”

Hope cocks her head to the side, seemingly unsure if she should be flattered by his assessment. He tugs on her hair lightly to signal it was a compliment and her expression clears.

“Besides, if I were to make fun of you, it’d be for wanting to work without pay for Stark.” 

“That was to bother Hank,” she explains, even though he knows.

“Bothering Hank can be fun,” he agrees, “especially since he’s so dramatic.”

Hope arches an eyebrow. “You weren’t pining for me for two years?”

“Oh no, I totally was,” Scott admits, “he’s definitely right about that. Aren’t you going to say you were pining for me, too?”

Hope levels him with a look that says not to press his luck, and then she leans over to kiss him lightly on the lips. 

“Eat your pizza, Scott,” she orders, grinning again.


	7. Chapter 7

Scott wakes a little after two in the morning to the harsh flashing of the muted TV and realizes that he fell asleep to the cable news channel, something that happens with fair regularity for him because he’s not much of a cable news kind of guy after his whistleblower interview in 2015. Hope, on the other hand, is a news junkie because of her fugitive days, and usually if he wakes to the TV on, she’s still awake and watching. Tonight, though, Hope is out cold on her stomach, head turned towards him, snoring these tiny, adorable little snores that are on his top ten list of the little things he loves about her.

They’re lower on the list than her enormous eyes and the lip bite she does when she’s hiding a smile, but on the list nonetheless. Hope has a little bit of pizza sauce dried on her upper cheek that he’s pretty sure she’d hate if she saw herself in the mirror. Scott thinks about wiping her cheek, but decides to let her sleep instead. 

There's a pizza box partially open on his side of the bed with a half of a pie inside, and a paper plate with a mostly eaten slice on Hope’s nightstand. Scott stealthily gets up out of bed to put the leftover pizza in the fridge and go to the bathroom. 

When he returns, Hope has rolled over onto her back in the bed, half opened her eyes, and is now sort of paying attention to the news. In the middle of a huge yawn, she asks sleepily, “where’d you go?” 

“We left a mess, so I cleaned it up,” he answers, sitting back down next to her. “I’m sorry, I should have turned off the TV first, I didn’t mean for it to wake you.”

“No, it’s fine. I saw something interesting on there. There was a weird storm in Mexico and people reported that a cyclone had a face.”

“Is this like when people see Jesus on toast,” Scott asks skeptically, raising a brow. “What do they call that again?”

“Folie a deux,” Hope says absently. “You’re talking about shared psychosis. I don’t know what this was. Have you heard anything from Sam lately?”

“Yes, but not about Jesus toast,” Scott says, cringing internally as he remembers about ol Grease Face. “I’ll fill you in on that call and we can check in with him about Mexico when it’s actually morning.”

Because she’s half asleep, she actually agrees not to be told immediately about the contents of the phone call with Sam. She also lets him wipe her cheek free of sauce without complaint. Scott turns off the TV, she rolls back onto her stomach, pats him on the chest, and they go back to bed. 

When the alarm goes off, they both get up to run as usual, but they decide to forego the workout in the basement after because they need to get rid of the furniture pile on the front lawn and wait for Cassie’s new mattress to be delivered. 

For the run, Hope puts on a pair of scandalously short and tight workout shorts, laughing at Scott’s bewildered expression.

“I have not seen those before,” he manages, when he picks his jaw up from the floor. “It’s really unfair that you’re wearing those shorts right now, the day that my teenage daughter is moving in. The same teenage daughter that called me out for touching your butt too much.” 

Hope is still laughing. “It’s not my fault that you can’t control yourself.” 

“You have a perfect butt, and you let me touch it, so it’s a little your fault,” Scott insists. 

“You’re obsessed with my butt, Scott. How would you like it if I couldn’t manage to stop myself from touching your butt?”

Scott blinks slowly, wondering how the conversation has tilted this much in his favor. “Go ahead, Hope. You can touch my butt. I promise, it’s totally fine.”

Hope turns around and eyes him thoughtfully. “If this is our last kid free morning, I suppose we could _maybe_ skip the run,” she suggests.

“Oh, only if you’re sure,” Scott jokes flippantly, saying what he really means by taking off his shirt and throwing it over her head perfectly into the hamper. 

Hope pretends to consider his shirtless abs for a second like there’s a real decision to be made, and then she hops back into bed with him with a smile.

He laughs with her. Her shorts may be great, but she’s better.

***

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of furniture related deliveries and other cleaning projects to make the house more like a home for Cassie. Scott entirely forgets about Ol Grease Face and calling Sam about Mexico because he is so pleased with the progress in the house. He is kind of excited to show that he’s capable of having a house that doesn’t look like giant ants came through and wrecked everything, even if they did. 

That evening, Hope and Scott are preparing for family dinner with Maggie, Paxton and Cassie. Hope hovers in the kitchen doorway as he puts together sides for the barbecue, barefoot and in the workout clothes she wears when she’s not working out. Scott will never understand how that concept works, but if she likes yoga pants all the time instead of her old business suits, that’s cool with him. She’s been hovering long enough that he knows she’s mulling something over in her head.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” 

Hope shifts her weight back and forth between her feet and runs the back of her neck before answering. She finally looks up at him, her eyes big and wide, and he’s obviously going to do whatever he needs to do to make her feel better. “What if this is a bad idea?” 

The side of his mouth lifts up into a grin, and she shakes her head at him. “I’m not joking, Scott. What if I’m a bad stepmom?” 

He looks at her fondly. “Hope, what did you say after I kissed you at your dad’s place the first time?”

“That it was a bad idea.” 

Scott nods encouragingly for her to continue, “And then what did you do?”

“Followed you outside to Luis's van,” she admits, sheepishly, smiling back a little.

“And then?”

She sighs; she knows he has her beat. “I kissed you. In your ex-con roommate’s deported father’s van.”

Scott quirks an eyebrow and smirks. “That turned out to be a great idea, though, right?”

“Ugh.” She smiles as she groans, so he knows she got his point. 

“So, this will end up great too, you’ll see. You’ll be a great stepmother, because you already are a great stepmother. An official title won’t change that.” 

Her smile gets a little wobbly, so Scott quickly changes the subject so she doesn’t have to field compliments, “do you want to try some of this potato salad? You’re the one with the feelings about too much mayonnaise.” 

Hope eats the bite from the spoon that he’s holding out for her and then meets his eyes. “It’s good,” she says, and he knows she means much more than the potatoes. 

“I’m glad,” he says softly, also meaning more than the potatoes.

Luis comes into the room and rolls his eyes even though they’re not doing anything other than standing by the bowl of potatoes. “See now this? This is adorable, but it’s absolutely definitely the kind of thing that Cassie is going to freak out about if she has to see it, you know? You guys are about to throw down right here, right here in front of this salad, and I mad respect that you’re like this, but she won’t be into it at all.” 

“We’re not —.” Scott exclaims, rolling his eyes right back at Luis.

“This isn’t —.” Hope winces and pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“Sure,” Luis snarks, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, “sure it isn’t.”

***

When Cassie arrives, she shrieks as soon as she sees the lack of lawn and dumpster furniture downstairs. Cassie runs upstairs and everybody can hear her crowing about her queen size mattress that she immediately calls her “big girl bed.” 

Maggie raises a skeptical eyebrow at Scott, daring him to explain himself with her eyes.

“Her old mattress was old and tiny, and she’s really tall,” Scott explains, shrugging. “It’s not a competition, it’s really just a bed.” 

Maggie settles down by the time dinner is served, and dinner with all six of them is pleasant, if a little stilted. 

After they finish dinner, and Maggie cries again, she and Paxton leave with the caveat that if Cassie wants to leave even in the middle of the night, she’ll come get her. Scott keeps himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. He knows this is hard on Maggie and does not want to make it harder, even if she is being ridiculous. 

After they go, and it’s just Cassie and all of her luggage, she bear hugs Scott. “Thanks, Dad. I’m really happy that you and Hope wanted me to be here with you.”

“Aw, Peanut, I’m glad you’re here with us too,” Scott says, “but just in case you think this place is going to be like the Wild Wild West, I’m just going to let you know right now that there are rules here too.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Scott thinks for a moment. “School first, soccer second.”

Cassie laughs. “Duh, Dad. Of course, like, I take my education seriously.”

“Okay, well,” Scott says, trying again to sound parental, “midnight curfew on Fridays and Saturdays, no porn on your cell phone, and no boys in your room with the door closed.”

To his surprise, Cassie doesn’t laugh, and instead digs her foot into the well worn carpeting that’s soon to be replaced, awkwardly. “Well Dad, that will be easy.”

Hope joins them in the living room. “What’ll be easy?” 

“No boys in my bedroom,” Cassie answers her, wrinkling her nose. “Because well, you see, um, well, I don’t like boys.” 

Hope’s eyebrow climbs into her hairline and Scott looks over at her for a second, emotions running through his eyes. Hope nods imperceptibly but encouragingly. 

“Hey Peanut, it’s awesome that you wanted to tell us about you, just awesome. But Cass-io Keyboard, now that we know that you like girls, you can’t have girls in your bedroom with the door closed. I’m sorry; those are the rules.” 

Cassie grins, seemingly relieved. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she agrees too easily, hoisting up one of her bags on her shoulder. Scott takes the bag from her gently, meeting her eyes. 

“Are we the first adults you’ve told?”

Cassie nods. “I was going to tell Mom, but then the Snap happened and everybody came back so things got messed up. I wanted to tell her.” 

Hope smiles at Cassie. “And you still can, as soon as you feel ready. 

Cassie smiles again. “Thanks Dad, and thanks Hope,” she says, hugging the both of them. 

“Don’t thank us yet, you’re going to get roped into wedding planning soon,” Scott jokingly warns, hugging his favorite people. 

“I think I can handle it,” Cassie says, looking critically at Hope. “It’ll be fun. I bet this one here wants a white suit instead of a dress, and I’m all about that look. Don’t deny it.”

Hope opens and closes her mouth like a fish, which prompts Cassie to pull out her phone to take a picture. She’s immediately distracted, however, by a news alert on her home screen. 

She holds her phone out to Scott and Hope, who both huddle around it to see the notification. 

Scott gasps and says dramatically, “Holy shit, that sucks for Spider-Kid!”


	8. Epilogue

Scott hates group texts more than almost anything, except prison and cleaning up vomit, so the fact that he’s mad enough to initiate a discussion via the Avengers group chat says a lot. He can’t wrap his head around the fact that a seventeen year old kid almost died fighting some sort of weather monsters overseas. Scott and Hope certainly weren’t dispatched to help, not that international travel was necessarily possible given the current custody situation, but surely somebody else was available. Hell, Scott has heard from Thor recently enough to think that even the God of Thunder might be back on the planet.

So he texts, “How did we manage to screw over Spider-Kid with this Mysterio issue?” to the group. 

Sam calls immediately, so Scott hurries to the kitchen to grab Hope, who had just started making tea with Cassie. 

“I have been asking myself the same thing, Tic Tac, and I had Steve make some calls because people still defer to his old ass and give me the brush off,” Sam says, frustrated.

“Those people are obviously racists,” Scott declares, “but go on.”

“Happy Hogan says that —”

Hope cuts Sam off accidentally with a loud noise of disgust. 

“Something about Happy Hogan to share with the class?”

Hope clears her throat, sheepishly. “It kind of seems like he’s part of the problem, still enabling Tony’s less ah, prudent ideas, even though he died,” she says, as tactfully as possible, which isn’t exactly tactful. 

“Be that as it may,” Sam answers, his inflection saying that he might agree with Hope’s assessment of the situation, “he told Steve that Nick Fury specifically assigned this to Peter and that Stark had left the kid some tech to help him with his first mission.”

“It’s been eight months and we’re just now hearing from Fury?” Hope can’t keep the incredulity out of her voice. “Does this sound right to you?”

Sam chuckles. “Not at all. Barnes is here with me and we’re going to try to talk to Peter in person once the kids are all back in New York.”

“Maybe Steve should demand to speak to Fury himself,” Scott suggests, “see if he can get any kind of answers as to why this was kept so quiet. Or maybe somebody should yell at Hogan for playing along, especially because he thought that Stark tech was ok for a high school kid. Is Spider-Kid doing alright?”

“His Aunt May says he’s doing ok, he has a girlfriend or something and has been mainly talking about her and not Mysterio,” Sam starts.

“A girlfriend,” Cassie interrupts, sighing. “I wonder what that’s like.”’

Scott shoots her a withering look, he had no idea she was eavesdropping. “What Cassie means is, Mysterio is a dumb name,” he says, matter of factly, accidentally losing track of the conversation after Cassie’s intrusion. 

“What they both mean is that we’ll be here if you need us for anything,” Hope declares, looking at Scott and Cassie like they both escaped Area 51. Cassie immediately looks chastised and Scott shrugs, owning his statement. “Keep us posted.”

Sam Wilson does more than keep them posted. When Peter Parker gets outed as Spider-Man on national television, the remaining Avengers team mobilizes in a much more coherent way than almost anything they’ve done before to help the kid with damage control. 

Nick Fury has a bunch of really incredible actors run around New York City in Spider-Man costumes, all claiming to be Spider-Man. Now, Spider-Man has dozens of different alter egos, causing the gossip rags and serious newspapers alike to question if Peter Parker is actually Spider-Man. The gossip rags also speculate that the supposed alternative Spider-Mans are aliens, and that there’s an alien invasion. Of course, it _is_ an alien invasion, in the form of Skrulls. That is, if you believe that Fury orchestrated a coverup involving another galaxy. Scott believes they are aliens — the truth is indeed out there — and of course, Hope does not, though she’s hard pressed to come up with an alternative explanation. 

The Avengers Initiative members all agree that the real Peter Parker and his Aunt May should go to San Francisco to stay with Scott and Hope while the lookalikes wreak havoc on New York. 

Luis gives up his bedroom to May to stay with his cousin Ignacio and his wife for the time being, while Peter takes the couch. Somehow it’s not weird - in fact, it has been a long time since Hope has had a female friend and she and May Parker get along incredibly well as long as May’s post-Snap fling with Happy Hogan is a topic left untouched. It’s good for Hope to have friend while they plan the wedding, and May appears to enjoy the normalcy of it too. 

Cassie brings Peter to the Pym Tech lab to intern with Hank for the remainder of the summer, and Hank manages not to psychologically damage Peter in the process. Scott considers that nothing short of miraculous, but Spider Kid has been through a lot lately, so maybe Hank’s demeanor doesn’t bother him as much as it would have otherwise. 

Either way, it’s a night a little over two weeks into May and Peter’s stay, and Scott has gone to bed to read over some of the instruction manuals for the new surveillance tech he wants to test to use for X-Con jobs. Hope and May are on the porch sharing a bottle of wine, which means there’s a reasonably good chance that Hope will come to bed a bit tipsy , something he enjoys immensely but pretends is no big deal. 

Cassie and Peter are in Cassie’s room shrieking over FaceTime to one of Peter’s friends in New York, maybe even Peter’s girlfriend (Scott thinks her name might be Michelle), with the door cracked three inches wide. Peter hadn’t hesitated to reassure Scott when he first arrived that Cassie’s virtue is safe because he already has a girlfriend, so a three inch open zone wasn’t necessary. In response, Scott had jokingly instructed Peter to give Cassie pointers on how to get a girlfriend, and to keep the door open anyway. Though it was objectively Scott’s sickest burn ever, Scott knows that he is still paying for it every time he talks to Cassie. 

Sure enough, after about an hour, Hope comes upstairs and flops next to him on the bed, cheeks pink and eyes bright. She grins at him in the way that alerts him to her slight drunkenness, so he hides his glee. Another excited shriek comes from Cassie’s room, and Scott shifts in preparation for leaving the bed and putting on pants to tell them to quiet down because it’s late. 

Hope has other ideas about him leaving the bed, and strikes up a tipsy conversation instead, her hand on his arm. “Did you ever think about having another one?” 

Scott quirks an eyebrow at her. “Another teenager? God no,” he scoffs. “They’re so mean. Just the other day Cassie told me I looked like a host at Applebee’s when I put on my blue striped polo with my tan suit for my security presentation.” 

Hope snorts, because the statement wasn’t entirely off base. Scott frowns at her; he likes that suit and that shirt and doesn’t see why they can’t be worn together. 

“She’s really never going to forgive me for telling Peter to give her tips on getting a girlfriend,” he grumbles, moving beyond the outfit. 

“No, probably not.” Hope grins at him and shakes her head. “But I’m not talking about having another teenager, I’m talking about having another kid,” she explains, looking at him expectantly. 

“Uh, things weren’t great after Cassie with me and Maggie,” he says, a little confused, because she knows how his marriage technically fell apart before he even accepted his plea bargain. “I got into trouble when Cassie was about three and I think after my arrest Maggie wanted me to get a vasectomy, I mean, really, I think she wanted to give me the vasectomy herself.” 

“Scott,” Hope warns, cutting him off and glaring at him with alcohol eyes, “I’m not talking about having the kids with Maggie.” 

Scott looks back at her, blinks because _oh right_ , and immediately shifts closer to her. She cuddles easily into his side and tucks her whole head under his chin. He tugs her ponytail lightly and smiles fondly down at the top of her head. 

“Aw,” he manages, grinning and wondering again how he managed to find _this woman_ , who is currently burying her nose into his chest because she’s embarrassed herself. So, he answers her question delicately. “I think, in my totally unbiased opinion, that if you wanted to have a baby we’d have the most adorable child ever to exist, and it would be like, super fun making one.” 

She elbows him lightly in the ribs, but he continues. “I think that if you don’t want a baby, that it’s fine. I have you and Cassie so my life is pretty great. Maybe it’s even as close to perfect as I’ve ever had.” 

“You’d be ok if I don’t ever want one?” Her voice is muffled, and he rubs her back soothingly. 

“I want you more than I want a baby,” he says, and it’s true. He’s loved her, wanted her, and wanted to make her happy for years. And now that he finally has her, he wants to get it right, baby or no baby. 

She looks up at him, eye makeup endearingly smudged, eyes bright, and dimples showing. “For a guy who makes such terrible jokes, you really say the right things sometimes,” she says, though her voice is a little watery, so he hugs her closer again. 

“I try,” he jokes, even though it’s one of those terrible jokes she’s already referenced. 

“Ugh,” she replies, rolling her eyes very theatrically, but she kisses him and keeps kissing him, so he feels like he’s actually getting it right this time. Making sure the door is firmly locked, they go to bed, ignoring the sounds of the teenagers downstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it a crossover? Will there be a sequel? I don’t know. 
> 
> Anyways, this chapter goes out to the ant stans on Twitter, especially dia, because I left her and everybody hanging.

**Author's Note:**

> If you don’t like it, blame @Bugsquads bc she told me to post it.
> 
> Alternatively, come find me on twitter @DorasoloSaysHey and ScottHope with me!
> 
> Thanks to @defcontwo bc I stole her Avengers Initiative from her Sam Wilson fic, which y’all should read like yesterday.


End file.
